


what we may be

by sinequanon



Series: Happy Holidays 2016 [2]
Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Multi
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-12-25
Updated: 2016-12-25
Packaged: 2018-09-11 22:21:45
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,690
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9037034
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sinequanon/pseuds/sinequanon
Summary: AU. Stiles mysteriously vanishes, and strange gifts addressed to Peter and Chris arrive in his wake. What, if anything, do the gifts have to do with Stiles, and how are the pack's alphas involved in their friend's disappearance?





	

**Author's Note:**

> This is short, I know, but it's actually longer than I wanted it to be. The plan was to write two 700-800 word fics--one for TW, one for Bleach--as a kind of holiday gift for everyone who has taken the time to read my work. Both fics have driven me up the wall over the past two days, so this isn't as good as it could be, and if it feels rushed at the end, it's because I got tired of looking at the thing.
> 
> (If I have the time and/or the inclination, I might expand this more later.)
> 
> Merry Christmas and Happy Hanukkah to those who celebrate, and to the rest of you, here's a gift just for stopping by!

There was a present on the mat right outside of the door to their hotel room, all done up in a pretty golden bow. It didn't have a tag, but then again, the two of them didn't need one--they already knew who’d left the gift, even if they had no idea how he'd done it.

Chris would have laughed at the way Peter practically rubbed himself all over the gift if the hunter hadn't been feeling similarly possessive of the newest reminder that Stiles was still waiting for them to find him. Even now, he shuddered to think about how close they had come to losing their third without even knowing it.

The two of them took their time opening the box and didn't even blink at its contents--a pair of shoelaces, this time--before adding them to the sack that contained all of the items that had been gifted to them over the last eleven months.

“We're getting closer,” Peter told him as they huddled together in their nondescript hotel room in the middle of nowhere. “We're going to get him back, and then we're going to take Stiles, and his father, and move somewhere where the rest of the Beacon Hills brats can never find us.”

“I don't imagine Scott will like that very much,” Chris said drily, though he completely agreed with the sentiment, especially considering Scott was one of the reasons why Stiles was missing.

“Then he shouldn't make fairy deals that he doesn't understand with Stiles's life at stake!” the werewolf hissed, and hugged Chris a little tighter, as if he, too, might unexpectedly vanish. “I didn't realize he hated me quite so much that he would use his best friend to get to me,” he added, more softly. “If it wasn't for Deaton, we never would--”

If Deaton hadn't run into Peter as the werewolf was getting ready to toss out all of the random gifts he had been receiving and recognized the magic in them, he and Chris would have unknowingly surrendered Stiles to the fairies forever. The thought of it still made the both of them tremendously ill and almost immeasurably angry.

That wasn't to say that the pair hadn't searched for him, but from what little evidence they had pieced together after Stiles's disappearance, the younger man had simply walked out of his house, left all of his belongings behind, and vanished. It had been both puzzling and heartbreaking in equal measures. It was only after the Sheriff had chided them for running themselves ragged--though Stiles's father had no room to judge in that regard--that they returned home.

A month after Stiles's disappearance, the first gift arrived on Peter's doorstep. Despite the fancy box and shiny bow, the item inside the box held no importance that anyone could see, and the only reason that the werewolf didn't throw the plastic comb out with the trash was because he got distracted by the pack’s newest pixie infestation and promptly forgot about it and its spot on Peter's bookshelf. The next gift was left at Chris’s two weeks later--another beautiful box holding a random gift that was quickly shoved to the back of the hunter's closet. New gifts came every other week--a broken pocket watch, a wilted flower, a book written in Hebrew--and although they were seemingly useless to the two men, the items still managed to find permanent places inside their homes.

Chris and Peter had compared notes, decided that someone was playing a cruel prank--the pair had originally hoped that the gifts were somehow messages from Stiles, though there was no connection to their third that they could find--and finally moved to throw all of the inexplicable presents away so as to discourage whoever was leaving them from doing so again.

It was coincidental that Derek had asked Peter to stop by Deaton’s the same day that Peter was going to throw out his gifts, and that one of Deaton's afternoon appointments was canceled, giving them time to talk. It was only because Peter had received so many gifts that the emissary recognized the magic clinging to Peter's shoulders, and it was only because Scott and Derek had come to Deaton months before asking about fairies that the man was able to piece together what had happened.

“They were concerned about your relationship with Stiles,” the man recalled with a frown. “I told them that if you three had bonded--” he glanced at Peter for confirmation, and the werewolf nodded, “that they shouldn't interfere with that bond. I apologize for not realizing that they would take more extreme measures to separate you.”

“Fairy deals are notoriously tricky,” Deaton added, not unkindly, when Peter paled and had to sit down. “I don't know what deal the boys made, but essentially, the fairies took Stiles as a test of fidelity for you and Chris. The trick is that you didn't even know you were being tested, let alone what the rules of such a test might be.” He motioned toward the random gifts that Peter had shown him. “You kept these because somehow you thought they might be from Stiles, and they are, in a way, a tether to your third. If you had thrown even one of them away, the fairies would have taken that as a sign that your commitment to him wasn't absolute, and considered that a break in the deal.”

Peter couldn't take the gifts back home quickly enough.

<> <>

In Peter's opinion, there were three lessons that the pack desperately needed to learn: one, he wasn't trying to become an alpha again, no matter what Derek thought; but if he did, he surely wouldn't stay in Beacon Hills afterward; two, Chris was an equally eager participant in their relationship, not simply the mediator that some wanted to believe; and three, Stiles was fully capable of making his own life decisions.

The two men did their best to educate the pack on those lessons just before they left in search of Stiles--courtesy of claws, non-wolfsbane bullets, and fists. In fact, Derek's last thought before he smashed head-first into that tree (that Peter all too happily threw him into) was that they really should have listened to the Sheriff when he'd advised him to leave his son's triad alone.

<> <>

It became obvious over the next two weeks of searching that the fairies were doing everything they could to keep the two of them from finding Stiles. A ridiculous number of alphas seemed to pop up out of nowhere, and every damsel in distress that fell into their path looked suspiciously like Allison. There were rogue hunters, a succession of rare and unlikely monsters to fight, bad weather, rude people, and freak accidents.

By the time the two of them reached the fairy mound, Chris was ready to simply blow the whole thing up, negotiations be damned. The two of them had even talked about it: Peter would burst in, claws ready, and carry Stiles away, and Chris would toss one or two or ten grenades in afterward. The only things that stopped them were the knowledge that theirs was a Derek-worthy plan, and that Stiles would never forgive them for being so stupid.

The entrance to the fairy mound was cleverly hidden; so much so, that without Deaton's advice they never would have found it. Peter carried the bag of presents to give back to King Oberon in exchange for Stiles's freedom, and Chris had a not-insignificant amount of iron hidden on his person in case that didn't work. The guard at the door smirked at them like he knew what the men were planning, but let the pair in and escorted them to the throne room all the same.

The throne room was an extravagant display of silver and gold, coating everything resembling normal furniture, and twisting  into shapes no mortal could possibly recognize and would likely go mad in the attempt to do so. The room itself was full to bursting, with fairies in all manner of dress, but the crowd quieted and parted as soon as the two men were noticed, giving Chris and Peter a clear path to the King.

Oberon stood like a statue, imposing and cold, and watched them as they approached. "Wolf and Hunter come for their prey." He looked dispassionately at Stiles, who was chained on the dais next to him, before turning back to the other two men, eyes narrowed. "You may find other prey, as this one amuses me; or you can revel with us, what is your choice?"

"We'll take our third, Your Majesty," Peter said simply, not daring to look away from the King. Chris was a reassuring and vigilant presence next to him; he would keep an eye on the rest. He could finally feel Stiles through the bond again, and while the younger man wasn't injured, he wasn't exactly doing well, either. Chris's fingers brushed against the iron charm in his pocket. "We've brought you back the trinkets you sent, in exchange for our love."

The Fairy King only laughed. "What is love to power? I can give you anything you want, and you may keep the gifts besides. What say you?"

Peter let his eyes flash blue. "We want Stiles."

"No."

Peter would never recall exactly what had happened next--he remembered Chris drawing his gun, and fairies screaming, but his world had narrowed down to Stiles, on his knees, and the King. Everything else was in the way.

He came back to himself covered in blood and surrounded by bodies. Chris was just as filthy, but Stiles, who was leaning heavily on Chris, seemed mostly unharmed.

"We need to leave the gifts, or else they'll come after us again," he said tiredly. "Can we go now, though? I really want to touch both of you, but this place gives me the creeps. We need to go."

 Later that night, after they were clean and fed, three men huddled together on a bed in a nondescript hotel room and whispered loving words in each other's ears.

**Author's Note:**

> The title comes from William Shakespeare's "Hamlet".
> 
> As always, thanks for reading!


End file.
